


Kiss Away the Pain || Shiratorizawa

by Rot_Llaves



Series: Ace of Hearts - Haikyuu || Short Stories || One Shots || Creative Rambles || [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Break Up, Cheating, Drama, F/M, Fix Me Ushijima, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Kissing, Light Angst, Multi, Shirabu Fucks Up, Some Explicit Language, looking for love in all the wrong places, relationship drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rot_Llaves/pseuds/Rot_Llaves
Summary: Hell hath no fury like a woman scornedAlt Summary: Shirabu fucks up and Ushijima cleans up the mess.
Relationships: Shirabu Kenjirou/Original Female Character(s), Shiratorizawa Academy Volleyball Club/Original Female Character, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Ace of Hearts - Haikyuu || Short Stories || One Shots || Creative Rambles || [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720834
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Kiss Away the Pain || Shiratorizawa

Entering the volleyball gymnasium at Shiratorizawa Academy was like stepping into a vacuum. Beyond those solid metal doors lay a world of its own, entrenched in a rhythmic atmosphere of focus and calm. Those monsters were trapped in their own heads, their minds on one thing and one alone.

As Hase Derira pushed her way through the door, not a single eye turned toward her. If they had, they would have seen her at her absolute worst. They would have noticed her chocolate hair loose from it's usual braid, her dark eyes clouded and bloodshot, surrounded by evidence of ceaseless crying. If they had looked away from their practice for even one moment, they would have seen the storm coming.

Her mind wasn't on her appearance though. She couldn't have cared less about the fact that her stocking socks didn't match, that her un-ironed shirt was sticking loose from her skirt or that her shoes were unbuckled and flailing as she walked. No, her mind was on one single mission: break him like he broke her.

There were members of the team on the edge of the court, resting while their teammates faced off in a practice drill. As Derira paced toward them, her mind clouded with the images that kept haunting her: her boyfriend ( _ex boyfriend? Were they exes? Had they even broken up? Did it matter?_ ) in the hallway, body pressed up against a blonde he probably didn't know the name of, hands tangled in her sun-kissed hair as he did things to her he said he was too shy to initiate with his girlfriend. She was a different one from yesterday, when she'd caught him outside the school gates nibbling on the ear of a redhead. Different even than the one she'd caught him with just that morning — the one with short black hair and polka dotted panties. (She only knew cause his hand was holding up her skirt slightly, caressing her ass.)

Had he been trying to rub something in her face? Show her all the ways she didn't match up to other women? Demonstrate all the actions he had planned with her, if only she had been worthy? Did it even matter?

Derira cleared the fogged thoughts from her head as she refocused on her goal and walked straight up to the only first year on the starting line up. He was standing next to the bench, water bottle pushed to his mouth and his attention fully on the ace making a serve. She walked to him, unblinking, and pulled the bottle away from his mouth, uttered a lowly "swallow" and threw the bottle to the side.

When she was sure he had gulped down his water, she grabbed him by the shirt — ignoring his squealing "Hase-senpai what are y--" — and forcefully placed her lips on his. Goshiki's arms flailed next to him as he struggled in her grasp, eyes wide and shooting toward the copper-topped setter on the court. They were already on bad terms and now the setter's girlfriend was kissing him.

Goshiki tried desperately to push her away, making awkward, muffled shrieks as she continued to press her lips to his, but only those nearby noticed — the true athletes staying true their passion and not taking their eyes off the ball.

She finally released him, almost dropping him when she unclutched his shirt and his knees buckled, and turned her eyes eagerly toward the man who shattered her heart. He had to have seen. _Do you see that Kenji? Two can play that messed up mind games of yours._

But his eyes were still on the court. He refused to look in her direction. Derira huffed, wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her blazer and turned to the court.

"Feel something, you monster" she screamed at him and walked up another teammate seated on the bench beside the net.

"Excuse me a second, Tendou," she practically whispered before sitting herself on his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. She leaned down and placed a small kiss behind his ear before whispering, "I need you for a moment."

She looked into his shocked eyes, her own broken and pleading, and swiftly placed her lips softly on his. His surprise was muffled by her quick movements and she shifted herself closer to him, moving her hands through his red hair.

He tasted like sweat and chocolate ice cream. Derira almost wanted to sigh into the kiss. What a sweet taste to come from such a complicated person. Just as she was about to push him to kiss her back, she was pulled off him and dragged backward, legs barely keeping up with the pace, toward the side of the gym.

Once her captor had reached the wall, she was tossed against it and finally able to face him directly.

"Just what the fuck do you think you are doing," the second year seethed, arms crossing in front of his chest. "Tendou? Really?"

"I just figured if we're going to go around kissing whoever we want, I should get my kicks while I can," Derira shot back, matching his glare with unmoving eyes.

He didn't have an answer as rage ate through his body. He pushed her up against the wall, the world around them fading away along with any thoughts of social embarrassment.

"Do you think you're being cute right now," he asked her. "Just what are you playing at _Deri_."

"I just figured I'd beat you to breaking my own heart, Kenji," she spat, pushing his arms away from her and ducking under his reach. "Be a good boy and play along."

She winked as she backed away from him quickly and turned, running at another teammate.

"Catch me Semi!" She shouted as she jumped at the backup setter. Surprised completely, and left with little else to do other than do as she said, Semi wrapped his arms around brunette to keep her from falling and she latched her legs around his center.

A small laugh escaped her as she looked at his scrunched up face, dusted with pink, and she encircled his neck with her toned arms.

"You're so cute Semi-senpai," she whispered, nuzzling her nose against his before placing a light kiss on his slightly-frowning lips. She was gentle with him. Maybe because she was feeling less desperate. Maybe because she didn't want him to drop her. She wasn't sure why, but she felt the need to be sweet to him despite using him.

She let go the instant she felt another tugging at the collar of her blazer and let herself be torn away from the flustered third year.

"You're being reckless Hase-san."

Derira looked up sheepishly at the team's captain who was holding her up in the air by the back of her uniform. He looked at her with his usual straight face that was basically saying he only intervened because she was disrupting practice.

"Eh he he," she tried to laugh as she flushed and shifted her sight away from his stoic face.

With a sigh he moved toward the gym doors, not setting her down, and proceeded to move her out to the hallway. As the door closed behind the pair, a collective sigh echoed on the court as the team let out the breaths they weren't aware they were holding in.

"Sh..Sh..She tasted like cinnamon," Goshiki stuttered, moving to hide his face in his hands. Some of his teammates let out a light, nervous chuckle as Shirabu clutched his hands tightly at his side.

"No she didn't," Tendou said, breaking through the nervous laughter. "She tasted like heartbreak and desperation." There was anger in the redhead's voice and his eyes — the ones that always seemed to see through anyone — turned on the second year setter and narrowed in suspicion.

"What the hell did you do to her," Tendou growled. His words were stabbing and Shirabu practically crumbled under their pressure. His typical cool appearance disintegrated in an instance as he hung his head and hot tears began to quietly stream down his face.

His hands flew to his face as he sunk down to his knees.

"I pushed her away," he sobbed. "She got too close. She was too perfect. It was going too well."

Not a single teammate moved to his side. Each was shocked into the place at the sight of their steady, dependable, sarcastic setter crumble in front of their eyes.

"Haven't you ever run away from something that scared you," he implored, looking up at them with tear-streaked cheeks and shaking hands. "She loves with her whole heart. She loved me with everything she had. It was so bright and warm and I got addicted."

He paused and looked down again.

"Addicted and scared," he whispered.

"So you're a coward," Tendou interjected, an almost-bored tone in his voice.

"Yes! Yes, I'm a coward," Shirabu screamed. "But you try being loved so purely and tell me that it doesn't scare the shit out of you!"

There was a sudden quiet in the practice space as Shirabu attempted to compose himself and his teammates continued to look on, still shell shocked by the outburst. Suddenly, a light squeak echoed as Goshiki walked toward the setter and knelt next to him, placing his hand on the second year's shoulder.

"I don't understand, Shirabu-san," Goshiki said. "Don't you _want_ to be happy?"

Outside the gym door, Ushijima had practically carried Derira down the hallway until he found a suitable place to sit her down. He huffed as he practically tossed her on the bench against the plain wall and then knelt down so that they were at equal height.

Tears were streaming down her face, her being unable to hold them back the moment the gym door closed, and her head was hung so low a normal person would have been concerned about the strain on her neck. Ushijima Wakatoshi was not a normal person.

"Practice is no place for personal displays of affection," he scolded in his monotoned way and the girl in front of him slumped into herself as her sobs became deeper. Her hands swiped desperately at her face, trying to brush away the tears before they could drop. " _Be strong. Be strong. Be strong_ ," she mentally chanted.

"It was the only way he would see," she whispered. "It _had_ to be practice."

Derira pulled her feet up to the edge of the bench and pushed her hand-covered face into her thighs as Ushijima watched on with the closest thing to concern that he could muster. He'd never seen a girl self destruct before. It was fascinating in the same way that watching his parents fight was. It was painful in ways unexplainable but he couldn't look away.

"Has Shirabu wronged you," he asked, blunt as always and Derira almost laughed. Instead she looked up at him with her red, puffy face and shot him a look that was somewhere between "are you fucking serious?" and "really, how long did it take you to come to that conclusion?"

"Ah," he toned, somehow understanding the glare, and roughly placed his heavy hand on her head. He patted the top awkwardly before removing his hand and hanging it by his side. _This is how you comfort people, right?_ The brunette let out a minuscule laugh at his attempt and Ushijima mentally nodded at himself with satisfaction.

Derira straightened herself out and placed her feet back on the ground as she raised her head to look the team captain in the eye. Looking at his unchanging features, and deciding that his consistency was a comfort, she resolved to confide in him. Or, at least, talk at him since he likely wouldn't respond.

So she told him about how happy she had been. She told him about the moments she thought _her Kenji_ was probably the axis on which her world spun and how he could stop time just by touching her hand. She told him about the distance the setter started putting between them when she had whispered in his ear that she was hopelessly in love with him as they watched the sunset. She told Ushijima about she sharp comments, the way his words cut deeper than if he had pulled a knife on her, and she told him about sordid affairs — the ones that started off innocent enough and the ones she wished she could wipe away because she sees them each time she closes her eyes.

_Maybe she had loved him too much. Maybe she could have done more. Maybe this was all her fault because she went in too hard, too fast with too much on the line._

She sobbed out her heartache and frustrations to the captain as he knelt on the floor in the vacant, white hallway, never taking his eyes off her. In a way, this reminded him of his mother after his father left and went overseas. There was a certain air of resilience mixed in with the brokenness and he tried desperately to recall the words his grandmother had offered after his father left. _Perhaps such words would be appropriate here._

"You're wasting energy on a man who is not worth your time," he said flatly. "A real man would not hurt a woman who loves him this way."

Derira sniffled and looked up at him in wonder. It was so unlike Ushijima to provide opinions on personal matters, let alone words of comfort. Perhaps she had underestimated his emotional capabilities. She rubbed the backs of her hands desperately across her face, attempting to rid herself of any evidence of her patheticness leaking through.

Ushijima reached out, softly placed his hand on her shoulder and met her eyes with a soft stare.

"Now is not the time to come undone, _Little Flower_ ," he said with something close to actual emotion leaking through his words. There were few things in this world that could absolutely infuriate the stoic captain: athletes that make decisions based on emotion rather than logic, people with egos beyond their abilities and men who were unnecessarily, intentionally and unapologetically cruel to women. At the moment, it looked like Shirabu Kenjiro was pushing at all three of Wakatoshi's buttons. But maybe, just maybe, helping the broken person in front of him was more important than being a bringer of karmic justice. "You're stronger than he is. Now is the time to show it."

"You're wrong, Ushijima-san," she whispered. "I am not strong. I let a boy break me and all I want is for another to repair me."

_Fix me. Fix me. Fix me._

Goshiki was right, Shirabu thought as he dashed out the gymnasium door — he wanted to be happy. He wanted to throw all his fear, his angst and his ability to tear both himself and others apart with his words out with yesterday's garbage. Throw it out the window and watch it fly away in the wind.

 _Fuck_ , he thought, thinking over every mistake he'd made since the moment that chocolate-haired girl walked up to him and told him she thought he was the most impressive man she had ever met. He should have told her that he thought she was beautiful. He should have held her close when she failed her test and promised to study with her for the next one instead of insisting that only the prepared reaped the rewards. He should have thanked her for making him soup and checking on him instead of yelling at her for 'trying to get sick too.' He should have told her that, since the moment he met her, he too thought she was the most impressive person he had ever laid eyes on.

God, he didn't deserve her. But she had chosen _him_. She had loved _him_. And maybe he could over himself enough to accept that there was something in _him_ worth loving. He could tell her how scared he was. He could tell her how her love felt like he was being touched by something only deities should be able to reach. He could tell her that every moment that she wasn't in felt like the world was empty and cold.

As he ran through the hallways, trying to find where his captain dragged Derira, he was certain there was a chance to fix everything he'd done and, maybe, start over — to do it right this time. He wanted to be happy. He wanted her.

But as he turned the corner and finally caught sight of them, he stopped in his tracks. He'd never seen Ushijima be affectionate, never seen him try to comfort anyone and still, there he was, kneeling down with his hand on Shirabu's girlfriend's shoulder.

Shirabu wanted to yell — to call out and force the third year away from her — but he was frozen in place because the vision in front of him was something he just couldn't handle. And when that chocolate-haired girl threw her arms around his captain and pushed her lips to his, he still couldn't move.

It was different than it was in the gym. Derira wasn't looking for retribution but salvation and it hurt more than Shirabu ever thought it could. To see her there, actually kissing another man — the way he should have kissed her — was earth shattering.

And the worst part was: Ushijima was kissing her back.


End file.
